Special Dead Page 12

  Finally she blurted, “I’m moving back in with Mom.”

  Oh, thank God. “Oh, no! Did you and Chuck....”

  She shook her head. “No, no. It’s not that.” Damn. “We’ve got a little package coming, and what with his trial—”

  Ani raised an eyebrow. “A little package?”

  Tiff ran her hands over her belly, licked her lips, and looked at her feet. The coat obscured any detail she might have been trying to show. “I hope it’s a boy. I want to name him Charles, after his daddy.”

  Ani forced a smile, which couldn’t have looked pretty around the orange rubber. “Wow, congratulations! How far along are you?”

  Tiffany’s eyes shot proud, accusatory daggers at Ani. “I’ve been clean the whole time. Since I knew. Not even a puff or a sip.”

  That wasn’t my question, but all right. “That’s great, Tiff. Your mom’s supportive?”

  Her head bobbed back and forth. “Uh...sort of. She’s not very happy with the situation, but she said she’d respect my decision, help me stay on my feet. I’m nineteen, after all. An adult.”

  Ani didn’t know what to say, so she said, “Yup.”

  They settled into comfortable silence, separated by the high-voltage fence and an utter lack of common experience. Tiffany’s breath frosted in the air, and she almost danced in place with nervous energy. Ani chalked the twitchy scratching up to nicotine and alcohol withdrawal rather than the weather, though she had no experience in the matter. By the time Ani had started smoking, her nicotine receptors were already dead, and quitting was as simple as...everything else.

  Tiffany looked up. “So, what do you think?”

  Ani thought back to the conversation and tried to summon whatever it was that she was asking about. “Charles is a good name. Maybe he’ll look like his dad.” Chuck Roberts was an idiot, but a cute one.

  Tiffany smiled, a rare enough but welcome sight strangled by its timidity. “No, silly, about the baby.”

  “Do I think it’s a boy?”

  Tiffany rolled her eyes, all outward traces of self-doubt gone. “No, what do you think about me keeping it? Him.”

  Ani shrugged. “I think it’s the right thing.” Even if Chuck isn’t.

  Tiffany’s teeth sparkled in the morning sunlight. “I knew you’d understand!” She bounced on her feet for a moment, then darted to her car. “Got to go!” she yelled over her shoulder as she got in. She slammed the door. Her tires spit gravel as she pulled out past the picket line.

  Ani watched Tiff’s car disappear into town, then wandered back to the group. Devon and Sam chatted near the door, Mike pulled up grass one blade at a time, Lydia and Teah walked the perimeter, Kyle drew a Mustang convertible on the concrete slab—crude, but recognizable—and Joe...Joe stood to the side, eyes closed, face turned up to the cool autumn sun.

  Ani wrapped her arms around his waist and pulled him back into her embrace. His helmet clacked against hers, jarring her neck.

  “Sorry,” he said.

  “My bad.”

  She closed her eyes and held him, amazed at the tiny trickle of heat that crept from his body. “Sam’s right. You’re getting warmer.”

  “I’ll say.” He shivered. “I’m freaking freezing all the time.”

  “Not used to it anymore, huh?”

  Footsteps crunched the frozen grass behind them. “Hey,” Sam said. Ani let go of Joe, and the two of them turned around.

  Sam’s eyes stabbed into her.

  “What’s up?” Ani asked.

  “Can I talk to you for a minute?”

  Joe knocked his helmet against Ani’s. “I was just going to help Kyle.”

  They watched him walk away, and Sam sighed. “I’m going to ask you not to be lovey-dovey with Joe in public.” Ani didn’t know what to say, so she waited for her to continue. “I know you’re not, but Teah thinks you’re rubbing it in.”

  “That’s ridiculous.”

  “Yeah. And irrational. She can’t be happy with you being happy, and it’s making no small amount of drama, which is dumping first on Lydia, who’s so fragile she can’t freaking handle any of her own insecurities much less Teah’s, and then on Devon and me, who don’t want to deal with it.”

  Ani’s chuckle held no humor. “That’s shitty.”

  “Yup.”

  Neither said anything for a minute.

  Ani sighed. “Fine. We’ll keep the public canoodling to a minimum.”

  As Ani stepped past her, Sam grabbed her arm. “Hey, we just got word about Jeff. Swelling’s way down. Looks like he’s going to make it.”

  Ani smiled and meant it. “That’s great! Is he awake?”

  Sam shook her head. “Not yet. They’re keeping him under until the swelling is gone, but the doctors are optimistic.”

  Ani hugged her, then stepped back. “Thanks. Good news is good news.”

  “We could use it.”

  They stepped over to the concrete slab, where Joe helped Kyle smooth and refine the lines of his Mustang. Joe gave her a curious look but turned his attention back to Kyle. She had never met anyone so...content.

  Ani looked up as Teah yelled, “I LOVE YOU!”

  Bill walked backward toward his car. “I LOVE YOU, TOO, BABE! AND I’M GONNA GET YOU OUT OF THERE!”

  Devon rolled her eyes. “Is he a complete fucking moron?”

  “Yes,” Sam said, fists on her hips.

  Teah blew him a kiss, then hugged Lydia as he drove away.

  Ani studied Lydia, shoulders hunched under the onslaught of Teah’s embrace, arms half-pulled in against her body, wide eyes staring at nothing. Is she really so fragile? Are any of us any stronger?

  It didn’t take her long to decide that, yes, Lydia was a wrong moment away from complete mental collapse, and that no, most of the rest of them weren’t. Ani didn’t know and didn’t want to know what it was like to live in a state of constant worry.

  * * *

  Ani, Devon, and Sam sat in their economics cage, crayons and paper stowed away in favor of a lively discussion of tax hikes for the rich. “Current Events Friday” was Ani’s favorite part of economics class. The students were split down the middle on the topic, and for the first time passions overshadowed the fact that four of the people in the room were dead. Mr. Cummings guided the debate with a quiet, deliberate intensity that just screamed this stuff really matters.

  A burst of static interrupted Devon, and they all turned to the back of the room. The identical but nameless, faceless, flamethrower-toting soldiers both took a step forward. The one on the left spoke through his mirrored visor. “I’m going to have to ask all living humans to step to the side of the room, right now.” He jerked the tip of his flamethrower to the left.

  They scrambled out of the way, eyes wide, as the other soldier unlocked first the students’ cage, then the teacher’s. “Let’s go,” he said.

  “Where are we going?” Mr. Cummings asked. Ani noted that their shackles hadn’t been chained together as the soldier pulled each of them up and out of the cage.

  “The bus. Now.”

  They shuffled out of the room into a deserted hallway. The PA system let out a ‘ding’, followed by Dr. Banerjee’s soft voice. “Attention, the school is now in lockdown. All students report to the nearest supervised classroom. Teachers, please refer to page two of the Emergency Guide.”

  “Follow me,” the soldier said. “Any attempt to wander off will result in incineration.” He took the lead, and the other followed behind them. They rounded the corner and joined a squad of four soldiers led by Mr. Benson, every one armed with assault rifles, standing next to the elevator.

  The soldiers fanned out to cover both sides of the hallway, then waited.

  “What’s going on?” Sam asked. Nobody replied.

  The elevator door opened, and the rest of the Special Dead shambled out, along with Mrs. Weller. Not one was chained. Ani’s mom was with them, her face creased with worry.

  “Go,” she said. The soldiers le
apfrogged from doorway to doorway, weapons raised as if expecting attack at any moment. As they reached the front doors, a roar erupted from outside, human voices raised in visceral, ugly triumph.

  The doors opened to reveal their short bus backed right up onto the first couple of steps. Military jeeps packed with soldiers flanked it to either side, complete with hull-mounted machine guns. Their bus driver opened the emergency back door and waved them down. “Let’s go!” Behind the bus, the throng of protesters was a hundred strong, and several cars screeched up to join them, swerving up onto the sidewalk and yards. Some of them had guns.

  The driver didn’t wait for them but instead ran to the front of the bus. The dead shambled as fast as they could down the stairs and accepted the assistance of the soldiers in getting up and on. Kyle was last, with Mike and Joe helping pull him up. He was no sooner in than Mr. Benson slammed the door and the bus lurched forward.

  Ani stumbled, banging her face guard on the back of the seat. Their driver’s voice boomed over the PA. “Get down and stay down. The windows are bullet-proof, but we don’t want to test them.” They hunkered in the aisle, like an old 1950s “duck and cover” drill.

  “What’s going on?” Lydia hollered.

  Ani’s phone rang. ROMERO, S. She hit “send” and then “speaker.”

  “Mom?”

  Everyone jumped as a machine gun chattered next to the bus.

  “The District Court just ruled against personhood, with no injunction. Unanimously.”

  Ani locked eyes with Devon.

  “We’re screwed,” Sam said.

  “I can’t imagine it’s an oversight by the Second Circuit,” Dr. Romero said, “but we’re pushing the Supreme Court for one. We hope it’ll be hours, no more.”

  Kyle tapped her shoulder. “So what does that mean?”

  “It means that killing us isn’t murder. Not even manslaughter. It’s just....”

  “Destruction of government property,” Joe said. “Misdemeanor stuff.”

  The driver called out over the roar of the straining diesel engine. “Assaulting soldiers is still a felony. We’ll get you back to the lab in one piece, hopefully without killing anybody.” The machine gun boomed again, right next to the bus.

  “What about that?” Sam said.

  “Warning shots.” The bus lurched, bucked, slowed, then accelerated again. “And they’re working.”

  “Jesus,” Devon said. “They must have been waiting.”

  Ani couldn’t help but agree. “Somebody tipped them off.”

  Huddled on the floor next to them, Sam grunted her agreement. “Heads are going to roll for—”

  “No!” Lydia cried. She ducked her head when they looked at her. “That’s mean.”

  The bus lurched again, throwing Ani against the left seat, and then veered the other way, tossing her across the aisle.

  “Shit!” Kyle said, flipping onto his back, his knees in the air. In his chains, his ability to catch himself was next to zero, and his neck bent almost to breaking as he slid against a seat. He wriggled to his side and grabbed onto the welded metal bar.

  The engine whined, and the ride smoothed out. The bus driver picked up the CB microphone. “We’ve got chopper cover now, kids, but stay down. It’ll be a few minutes before we’re back home safe.”

  They huddled on the floor, clinging to the seat posts, no one daring to let go.

  Ani realized that she should be terrified, but summoning the emotion proved difficult. On an intellectual level she knew that she might die and so might her friends—and Joe—but the intensity wasn’t there. She’d felt more alive at Six Flags, plummeting down the roller coaster. Dull.

  The bus screeched to a stop, and Mr. Benson hopped onboard. “We’re home, kids. Get inside, chop-chop.”

  They scrambled to their feet, Mike hauling Kyle up with one hand, and stumbled off the bus. The lab door stood open five feet from them, their view of the outside world blocked by the orange bus façade. Without waiting for further instruction they shambled inside, and the door slammed shut with a hydraulic hiss.

  A few minutes later, Dr. Romero met them in the lounge, where Mike had already broken out Jenga and played half a game by himself.

  “How bad?” Devon asked before Ani had a chance to.

  Dr. Romero put her hands on her hips. “Bad.” She tsked, an absurd gesture given the gravity of the situation. “Pending an executive order, Rishi’s still in charge, and he’s assured me that your safety is paramount to his research.”

  “Nice,” Sam said.

  She threw up her hands. “You didn’t actually believe he was doing this for your good, did you?” She avoided looking at Ani or Mike with a pathological intensity.

  “For what, then?” Devon said.

  “Research. An ultimate cure. Something like that.”

  “Great,” Sam said.

  “So what now?” Ani asked.

  “Now you kids stay out of sight while we work this out on the legal end.”

  “What if....” Everyone looked at Kyle. “What if they come in to get us?”

  Mr. Benson stepped into the doorway. “Then we kill them.”

  Lydia squeaked, and Teah pulled her close.

  Mr. Benson unlocked their helmets one by one, hanging them on the pegs by the door. “Nobody dead leaves this room.” He left Kyle’s on, as was now normal. “We don’t know who’s out there or what they’re armed with.” With that comforting thought, he walked out.

  They looked at each other, then turned to Ani’s mother.

  “What now?” Ani asked.

  Dr. Romero sighed. “We wait. We hope that the lack of an injunction won’t last more than a few hours. Stay put.” She walked out and closed the door. The external lock keyed, and the security pad lit red.

  Kyle turned on the Xbox, and Mike, Lydia, and Teah joined him at Mario Kart. Devon and Sam took a chessboard and moved into the corner. Joe sat next to Ani on the couch and asked her the same question.

  “What now?”

  She shrugged.

  They sat side-by-side in comfortable silence, watching the video game without interest. Ani felt Joe’s warm thigh against hers and wished they were alone, glad that they weren’t.

  “So,” he murmured. “What do you think?”

  “About what?”

  He cleared his throat, an oddly...living...gesture. “Life. Death. The universe. What do you think?”

  She smiled. “I think most people think too much.”

  He grinned. “Except the ones that don’t think enough, am I right?”

  “Except those people.”

  They talked about nothing and everything, from college to homework to lifelong dreams, and Ani almost found herself telling him the truth about her upbringing, but didn’t—there was too much risk of being overheard.

  Ten hours later, at 11:30 pm, the door beeped and popped open. Kyle paused the game, and they all looked up as Dr. Romero sidestepped through the door, her face grim. “We’re good. The ringleaders have been arrested, and, more importantly, the Supreme Court stepped in.”

  Ani raised an eyebrow. “You don’t look very relieved.”

  “I’m not. They didn’t take the case, but kicked it to the Second Circuit. They did put in an injunction up until such time as they review it, though.”

  Devon rolled her eyes. “Untouchables, are we?”

  “Worse,” Ani said. “Untouchables are human.”

  Joe cleared his throat. “So what’s this mean?” He did it again and smiled at Ani when she gave him a concerned look.

  “It means we’re back to normal. Same as yesterday, same as this morning.”

  Nobody said anything for a long moment. Teah surprised Ani by being the first to speak. “So who was the ringleader?”

  Her mom shrugged. “We don’t know yet. It wasn’t a coordinated effort as far as we could tell.” Her face was too earnest, too solid. Liar. Ani vowed to ask her about it later.

  “So anyway, bath time.”


  “We’re in the middle of a game!” Kyle protested.

  Joe chuckled. Dr. Romero didn’t.

  “For ten hours? Go to bed.” She put her hand on the light switch that would turn off the TV and console.

  They grumbled but they got up. Ani and Joe were the last out. They lagged behind the others, holding hands as soon as Teah rounded the far corner. She marveled at the warmth in his touch. Her mom gave her a pointed look, nodded her head at the ever-present security cameras, then turned and walked off toward the lab. “Bath!” she called as she disappeared from view.

  They took their time, saying nothing as they wandered down the fluorescent-lit, institutional hallway. Joe cleared his throat, rubbed it, and his smile faltered.

  “Are you okay?”

  He nodded, and swallowed. “Something’s a little off, but it’s not a big deal.”

  “We can call Doctor—”

  “I’m fine.”

  She stopped and looked at him, staring into his flat, still-lifeless good eye. “Are you sure?”

  He kissed her, gentle and slow, then pulled back. “More than sure. We’ve all got appointments tomorrow morning.”

  She kissed him back, then led him toward the apartment.

  “Do you think your mom will be back for a while?”

  The answer was almost definitely “no.” When she went to the lab late at night, she often didn’t return until the next night.

  “Yeah,” Ani said, hating the word. “She usually just checks samples and comes right back.”

  He smirked. “You’re a bad liar.”

  She sighed. “I know. But a girl has to try.”

  “Sweet. What are we trying?”

  “Pacing.”

  “Pacing?”

  “I don’t want things to go too fast.” She refused to think about the last time she lost control. She refused to think about Mike.

  “But,” he said, running his warm knuckles down her cheek, “you know, YOLO and all that.”